I
An encrypted discourse,
cloaked
in veils of trope, symbolism, imagery.
Keys evade grasp;
intangible keys,
nonetheless more certain
than their destinations.
Indeed, treasures dot
this literary landscape,
manifest
to those who seek;
their values, a contention.
At one glance, hieroglyphics;
a second, an enigma.
Enter the anatomisation,
inevitable and laborious,
yet which bears fruit
that exhilarates.
A mine, a jigsaw,
an archaeological dig.
A rare but enticing, enlightening enjoyment.
II
If this clip had you laughing, you may very well enjoy Missim Ezekeil’s “Goodbye Party for Miss Pushpa T.S.” It is a delightful, humorous poem – my favourite – that seems to gently poke fun at Indian English.
The strange locution was initially quite puzzling; I wondered, head tilted, why articles were missing here and there, and why every verb was in the present progressive. Then, even more strangely, an image started to materialize, one of an authentic Indian gathering with an authentic Indian man giving a speech. I realized that I had heard this English before, perhaps in Monsoon Wedding or some other video. It is the quintessential chutnified English: English, yet not quite English, and foreign to English speakers from the west…
Chinglish, Spanglish, Singlish and Konglish – I think we’re all acquainted with these words, or can at least guess what they mean. They are all forms of broken English. The speech in the poem, though – I wasn’t sure how to label it. So I googled “Indian English”, thereby embarking on a lengthy research process that I did not see in store for me.
Much to my bemusement, the first link to pop up was a plain old Wikipedia article on Indian English. It stared at me innocently as if to say, “I was here since forever, you know.” The article defined Indian English as “the group of English dialects spoken primarily in the Indian subcontinent.” I had thought English came more or less in three flavours, British, North American, and Australian, so reading the list of English dialects all over the world was a good reminder of both the lingering legacy of colonialism and the malleability of languages. India herself had nearly a dozen different English dialects listed.
According to the Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language, forms of Indian English, or South Asian English, vary from pidgin to Standard British English. Of the varieties, Standard Indian English was what interested me. A paper I found by Braj B. Kachru (Indian English: A Sociolinguistic Profile of a Transplanted Language) discussed the “deviance” (as opposed to “error”) of “educated” Indian English from native varieties of English. He mentioned the frequent be + ing + verb construction in Indian English, and suddenly pervasiveness of the present progressive in the poem made sense. Also mentioned was the “missing and intrusive articles”, another feature of the speech that had felt like an itching mosquito bite. Take “Miss Pushpa is coming / from very high family”, and “that was long time ago” for instance. Another grammatical characteristic I recognized was reduplication, such as in “hot, hot coffee” for emphasis. You’ve encountered it too, if you’ve watched the above video. Remember the English teacher saying, “red-red cheek” when threatening to “touch to the fingerprints [the student’s] cheek”? 
Oh what fun…
If you find the grammar stuff dry, I’m sure the Indian English vocabulary won’t have you snoozing. Here are some that I particularly liked. They’re compiled from the Cambridge Encyclopedia, the aforementioned paper by Kachru, and another paper by him titled “The Indianization of English”.
- Cousin-brother: male cousin – I totally understand where this one comes from. Korea is a collectivist society as well, so we call strangers grandmas, grandpas, brothers and sisters!
- Himalayan blunder: grave mistake – do you think “Niagara blunder” might catch on?
- Foreign-returned: person who’s been abroad for education – isn’t this one so relevant? I could use this with my family back in Korea…
- Sit on someone’s neck: to watch carefully
- Stand on someone’s head: to supervise carefully – how delightful to read this and the last one in succession.
- Eve-teasing: harassment of women – I don’t like what it means, but the term itself is quite imaginative.
Finally, here are my favourites, ‘prepone’ and ‘air-dash’ as seen on http://oald8.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/!
Notice “Indian English” in brackets? Imagine my disappointment when I couldn’t find “skinship”, a Konglish term, in the dictionary…
While reading up on all this, I had a few questions in mind:
- What is the attitude of “Standard English” speakers toward Indian English?
- To what extent is Indian English accepted as its own unique entity, as opposed to being regarded as a flawed, broken version of English?
- What are the Indian people’s opinion on the use of English in India?
Given the numerous writings on Indian English, and the debut of its words in the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary, Indian English seems to be gaining recognition. Microsoft Office seems to recognize the diversity of English dialects as well (Figure 1), but perhaps that’s another story.
Figure 1. The various languages supported by Microsoft Office Word.
Language is ever-changing, and it’s supposed to be a vehicle for communication. It follows, then, that if Indian English is what facilitates communication in India, it should be recognized as a legitimate variety of the language. Not to mention, after all, that India has the 2nd largest number of English speakers in the world.
In the below video, the linguist David Crystal shares his view on the future of Indian English. He suggests the interesting idea with India as a great global power, Indian English will become attractive and be utilized by non-Indians. It seems very plausible. We’ve already seen this effect in the globalization of western standards of beauty, have we not?
Within India, Kachru claims that there is a love-hate relationship with English. Not surprising, given the colonial past. If I were Indian, I would likely consider English as a symbol of oppression. As well, being a non-native English speaker, I know very well the resentment one might feel at the encroachment of English in one’s native language. On the other hand, some argue that English is beneficial as a unifying medium for the various ethnic and linguistic groups of India. Moreover, English proficiency is advantageous for international interaction. Isn’t education in English coveted in India? Given this complex, multi-layered attitude towards English, it would be interesting to know whether Ezekeil condemns the use of it in India, welcomes its Indian variation as part of the national identity, or wants it to be spoken in accordance with the rules of British Standard English.
Phew, to think one poem led me to all of this discovery and learning… But that is why I appreciated it so much. That, and the humour and allure of Indian English. How did you like the poem? Even if you didn’t, I hope that my post has been informative and helped you to better appreciate it.
Postscript…
For a concise overview of Indian English, check out this link: http://www.bl.uk/learning/langlit/sounds/case-studies/minority-ethnic/asian/. It also lists several Indian English phonological features along with audio clips, which is a stellar resource understanding Indian people’s accents!
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